


Truly Madly Steep-Tea

by Yuliares



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Concussions, Crack, Herbal tea is disparaged, John Watson really loves tea, M/M, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuliares/pseuds/Yuliares
Summary: While recovering from a concussion, John Watson loses the love of his life. Who could possibly step up to fill the void?(Something short and silly.)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Truly Madly Steep-Tea

John comes around with a splitting headache, dark and pulsing, and curses whatever alcohol brought him to this blackout. Only - his mouth is dry, but not sour. There’s a steady beep hammering in through the fog of his head, and - a whiff of antiseptic -

He struggles to open his heavy eyes.

“John,” says Sherlock’s voice, and John can barely roll his head aside to see Sherlock’s face, swimming in and out. He looks all cheekbones and… concerned. John gives a soft snort that turns into a groan and barely holds down a heave. God, his head hurts. Still, don’t see that expression on Sherlock often.

Sherlock’s voice, impatient. “John, you’re at the hospital with a concussion-”

John can’t keep his eyes open any longer, and slides away into the darkness.

~

The first morning after being released from the hospital, John shuffles down the stairs and into the kitchen, grateful to finally be home. It looks like Sherlock even cleared the staircase so there wasn’t anything to potentially trip over.

John puts the water on to boil and pulls out the tea box - only to set it down again. “Sherlock!” he yells. “Did you drink the last of the tea?”

No response. Huffing in annoyance, John looks through the cupboard again. Usually Sherlock is too lazy to make his own cup, but anyone else would have had the decency to not put an empty box  _ back _ . And of course, Sherlock would never save the last bag for his just-out-of-hospital roommate, oh no.

“Sherlock!” he yells again, and tries opening the cupboard next to it. There has to be a box somewhere.

“On top of the fridge,” calls Sherlock’s voice, “Which you would have noticed if you just  _ looked _ .”

“We’re not all bloody tall enough to see the top of the fridge,” John retorts, taking three steps that feel much longer and stretching up to pull down- “Sherlock, this is  _ herbal! _ ”

“It’s tea,” says Sherlock, appearing in the doorway as if summoned.

“This is  _ not _ tea,” John protests, greatly offended.

“John,” Sherlock says slowly, as John grits his teeth. “It clearly says ‘tea’ on the box.”

“Yeah, well,” John trails off, thinking hard. It takes him an embarrassingly long moment, made even more awful because Sherlock actually waits for his now even slower than normal brain to catch up. “... soymilk isn’t actually milk, innit?”

“Actually, in the Americas packaging now has to say soy beverage-”

“I don’t care! Sherlock. I just want a bloody cup of tea, like I do every morning.”

“No.” says Sherlock, and lifts his chin.

“Sherlock, just one cup-”

“The doctor said no caffeine.”

“ _ I’m _ a doctor!”

“So then you understand why you can’t have any. You have a  _ concussion _ , John.”

“This is an overreaction-”

“Your health is not an overreaction!” Sherlock bursts out, and then looks away. “Or so a friend keeps telling _ me _ .” Then he pauses and deliberately rearranges his face into what he clearly thinks is a friendly expression. “Look,” Sherlock says slowly, as if talking to an idiot,” I know this is difficult for you-”

John throws his hands up. “Oh, for the love of-”

“It’s just two weeks, John! I would have thought you’d appreciate my going shopping for you.”

John rolls his eyes and hauls open the fridge. “You bought that awful herbal stuff, yogurt, eggs, and… avocados.”

Sherlock nods very seriously. “An excellent source of healthy fats. A balanced diet is important for concussion recovery, you know.”

~

“You know,” John says, avocado toast and fried egg tucked away and just the dishes and the paper left on the table, “You can’t actually stop me from getting a cup of tea. I can pop down to Mrs. Hudson’s any time.”

“Already warned her,” says Sherlock, not looking up from his… whatever he has under the microscope. John probably doesn’t want to know.

“So I’lI pop down to the shop,” argues John. “I’m cleared for light activity, which includes walking. So there’s no need to go hiding or throwing out anything I bring back.”

Sherlock sighs and sits back in his chair. “You can’t actually stop me,” he says, slowly and deliberately, “From indulging in cocaine.”

John rears back in shock, and then regrets the sudden movement as a wave of nausea rolls by. “Are you threatening me?”

Sherlock shrugs. “Merely stating facts.”

“Do  _ not _ compare a cup of tea to your cocaine addiction,” John says angrily. Sherlock says nothing, just leans back over his microscope. “You can’t say things like that,” John insists, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t.”

Sherlock’s eyes slide to meet his, hard and narrow. “Wouldn’t I?”

“No.” says John, fingers clenching on the newspaper.

It starts to rain a little past the hour.

John decides to stay in for the day.

~

“You’re being very illogical about all this,” Sherlock complains. “It’s not like you drink enough tea to have a strong caffeine addiction, and the nutritional value is negligible.”

“That’s not what it’s about, Sherlock,” John says, sighing. “It’s about… routine. Most people like to start their days with something nice - a relaxing shower, a warm cup of tea, a good morning kiss. That sort of thing.”

“And this somehow makes your day better.”

“Well,” John shrugs. “Yes.”

Sherlock stands suddenly, and swoops around to stand in front of John.

“You should have said so sooner,” he says, and then Sherlock is leaning forward-

“Oh!” says John, heart beating very fast, and - well.

Perhaps this day is starting off with something very nice after all.


End file.
